Malaria
by Amaranthfox
Summary: Brock, Dean, and Hank take on their most difficult mission ever, taking care of a sick Dr. Venture. (Season 1)
"Morning Brock." Dean said with a smile, as he walked into the outdated kitchen behind Hank.

"Boys." Brock said with a nod.

It was set to be another uneventful Saturday morning at the venture compound. Hank and Dean sat at the breakfast table eating some off brand sugary cereal as the morning light leaked in from the windows.

"I had a best dream last night, you were there-" Dean said excitedly as he pointed his spoon at Hank "-and you too Brock and giant boy detective, and we were solving a mystery in a .. pyramid I think? No wait. It a jungle? Anyway…."Dean continued his story for a number of minutes but admittedly Brock sort of tuned him out by this point. He had heard more then enough of that dream nonsense from Doc.

"What happened then?" Hank asked bringing a segment of Brock's attention back to the conversation.

"After that, I woke up." Dean said as he went back to his cereal.

"Real interesting Dean" Brock said with a sigh.

"Hey Brock check this out!" Hank said as he drank all the left over milk in his cereal bowl in one gulp.

"That's…pretty impressive Hank." Brock said eyeing the empty chair at the opposite end of the table longing for more stimulating conversation.

"…. So…. either of you seen your dad?"

"I bet he's in the lab!" Replied Dean.

"Ya….Somehow I … kinda doubt that." Brock said. He checked his communicator watch it was just past nine and no new messages. Maybe Doc had actually gotten to work for once Brock thought, stranger things have happened.

"Well alright boys" Brock said as he got up from the table and swiftly headed towards the door wishing to make his exit before Dean remembered any more of his dream.

"I'll be in the hanger if you need me."

"Bye Brock." Hank said as the twins both waved.

In the hanger Brock took a cloth and begin to polish his Charger, First the windows, then the mirrors, the bumper, and finally headlights. He checked his watch again. It was almost ten and no new messages. Not a day had gone by that Doc didn't bother him for some trivial task before noon. Something not right Brock thought. He headed to the lab, which was somewhat unsurprising vacant. He checked the kitchen, which was now empty except for few dishes in the sink. He headed to Doc's bedroom. Knocking on the door with no reply.

"It's getting late Doc." Brock said knocking again. Suspicious, he slowly opened it to find nothing out of the ordinary but a lump in the bed. Not a great sign but he hasn't been kidnapped so that's something Brock thought walking over to the bed. Rusty was still asleep, but it didn't appear restful. This didn't surprises Brock in the slightest. Nightmares caused by Rusty's 'posttraumatic boy adventurer disorder' were common, not like he would ever admit it. All Brock knew for sure was that every few weeks Rusty would come to the breakfast table with dark circles under his eyes and just stare off into space, when questioned he would just blame 'migraines' and hastily change the subject generally with an insult directed at Hank. Brock assumed that today was just another one of those mornings. And yet something was different this time. Brock silently contemplated returning to car polishing but decided against it when he looked down at Rusty who looked practically as pale as Pete White. His years of playing unwilling nursemaid to they boys had prepared him to a degree for what was about to come. Brock hesitated before awkwardly placing the back of his hand on Rusty forehead, certainly warmer then expected. Rusty's eyes shot open only to begin squinting as he tried to focus his eyes with out his glasses.

"Brock. What the hell do you think you're doing?" Rusty said calmly.

"What does it look like I'm doing..…. Jackass." Brock said taking his hand away.

"Invading my personal space for one thing." Rusty sneered.

"You've got fever Doc. Were you planning on tell me?" Brock said.

"Tell you what exactly?"

"Look its my job to watch out for you. So if you're 'fine' I'll be on my way."

"Well I'm not sure 'fine' is the word I'd use."

The two remained quite for a moment. During which Brock got a good look at Rusty. While pale, hunched and scowling weren't an unusual look for Rusty, it was strange to see him with out his glasses on. He looked tired.

"Can I ask you something?" Brock asked handing him his glasses from the table.

"Well I can't really stop you now can I?" Rusty said put on his glasses.

"This isn't something you…. I don't know… made in the lab is it?" Asked Brock. Rusty looked at Brock with glazed confusion until he realized what he was really asking.

"Me? Virus splicing? Honestly Brock what sort scientist do you think I am?" Rusty said crossing his arms in disapproval.

"Ya that's…. sort of why I'm asking. So your telling me this isn't some bio engineered… nothing like that? " Brock asked

"Of course not. I'd be almost proud of that, not to mention a get hell a lot more commissions. But now that you mention it, maybe I should get into that racket. Seems" Rusty paused and a lowered his glasses with a smile "… lucrative."

"Ya… I don't think that's such a good idea Doc."

"I'm kidding. The paperwork alone would be a nightmare. Good luck finding a research grant for creating super ebola. … That isn't from North Korea."

"So you gonna tell me what the hells wrong with you, or am I wasting my time?"

"Oh this? Its nothing, just one more gift from my father...malaria. Had it since I was a kid…. It never really goes away. Turns out its not a great idea to drag a ten year old to the Amazon." Rusty said bitterly.

"How long is it going to…?" Brock asked.

"A day, two at most." Rusty sighed. "But lets go ahead and not tell the boys about this, you know how they get."

"And what am I supposed to tell them exactly?"

"I don't know. Make something up tell them I'm at a science convention or something. Just keep them out of my hair."

"Tell us about what?" Hank asked as him and Dean poked their heads in to the doorway and proceeded to walk into the room.

"Nothing to worry about boys, your dads just -" Brock began. Hank and Dean looked at each other with concerned expressions.

"Your turning into a Dracula aren't you?! ANSWER ME!" Hank asked accusingly.

"Why do things like this happen?" Dean said as he nearly began to cry.

"Oh for the love of…Brock, do something about them." Rusty sighed.

"Relax boys, he's not 'turning into a Dracula.' Brock said, trying his best to calm the two of them down.

"You boys shouldn't see you father like this." Brock said.

"You heard the man." Rusty said as he made a shooing gesture towards the door. Somewhat disheartened Hank and Dean both left the room closing the door behind them.

"This isn't going to be one of those things is it Doc?" Brock asked.

"Where my family ruins everything? Ya probably." Rusty said. Brock said nothing as headed for the door. But as soon as the door opened Hank and Dean fell in to the room, no doubt in a poor and undoubtedly unsuccessful attempt to eavesdrop.

"We were just-" Dean began.

"Doesn't matter. You two follow me, Doc you stay put." Brock said.  
The door shut.

"Ya, I'll get right on that." Rusty said to the now empty room.

The newfound silence was a relief. For a few moments Rusty sat in stillness staring at a number of random objects around the room until he laid eyes on the nightstand and an idea came into his mind. He reached into the back his drawer and grabbed a steel flask. A quick shake revealed that it was little more then half full. Half is better then empty he thought. Opening the lid and a quick a taste, to his pleasant surprise it was a high quality whiskey. He couldn't seem to remember why he had put it there in the first place, or why it was half empty for that matter. He must have been saving it for something, but now seemed as good of time as any.

Brock and the boys headed to the bathroom in search of supplies. Hank  
and Dean sat on the edge of the bathtub as Brock looked through drawers.

"Pops not going to die is he?" Hank asked. At first Brock wasn't sure if they were serious but a quick glance at the twin's eyes proved their sincerity. He had never seen the two of them so anxious.

"…Um… No Hank he's not gonna die" Brock rolled his eyes and continued to look through the drawers looking for anything of use. Why is this family is never prepared for anything he thought. He sighed after sifting through the last drawer of nearly empty tubes of toothpaste and having nothing to show for it but a single thermometer.

All three of them headed back to Rusty bedroom. Brock began to speak as soon as he opened the door.

"Doc where do you keep the - " He paused as he saw Rusty with a flask in his hand, mid swig.

"What are you doing?" Brock asked calmly.

"Oh this... Its nothing." Rusty faked a smile as he closed the flask. Brock walked over with out saying a word grabbed the top of the flask with his thumb and index finger and slowly pulled it up out of Rusty's weak but still grasping hands.

"Oh come on!" Rusty protested.  
Brock sighed and changed the subject "Open up."

"You're my bodyguard, not my therapist Brock."

"No I mean open up." Brock said offering the thermometer to Rusty.

"I hardly think that's necessary."  
Brock glared at him silently.

"….Fine." Rusty sighed reluctantly snatching the thermometer from Brocks hand.

"You know this isn't part of your job description right?" Rusty said placing it under his tongue.

"Ya well, there nothing good on tv so..." Brock said. Hank and Dean hovered as they awaited the results.

"Should we call that doctor guy with the big head?" Dean asked

"Ya the one that operated on your balls Dean!" Hank replied

"Haaannnk!?" Dean whined.

"Everybody just calm down. He doesn't need a doctor-" Brock said grabbing it from his unenthusiastic patient's mouth.

"…-Shit, maybe he does.102." Brock said. His normal stoic demeanor changed to one of unease.

"Brock would you relax, I've had much worse. I was 'Rusty Venture' boy adventurer. With all the places my father dragged me off to, I had a different tropical disease ever other week. And you know who took care me all those times? …Not Jonas oh no, H.E.L.P.E.R!" Rusty said.

"Geez Doc that's… real f'd up." Brock said.

"You don't know the half of it." Rusty said.

"What are we gonna do?" Dean interrupted as he wringing his hands.

"He'll be fine… probably. I'm going to go see Dr. O and see if he got any Tylenol or …Something, Dean, watch your dad and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid while I'm gone, Understood? " Brock said.

"Don't worry I'll take good care of him while your gone." Dean said with a smile.

"I'm sure you will Dean." Brock said.

"Honestly Brock, don't encourage them…Wait your not actually leaving are you?" Rusty said.

"Won't be gone long, besides it will give you a chance to spend some of that, what do they call it? … Family time." Brock said as he closed the door.  
Rusty was taken aback by Brock's desertion in his time of need leaving him in the care his irritating children.

"Time to get started. What can we do to help?" Dean asked.

"I suppose leaving me alone not an option?" Rusty sighed.

"Of course not silly, I'm supposed to watch you and make sure you don't do any thing stupi-."

"-Yes yes I ….heard that part. Fine if you really want to make yourselves useful then get me some more blankets, its freezing in here." Rusty said.  
Hank and Dean looked at each other with worried expressions. They both scrambled out of the room only to return soon after with the bounty of their scavenger hunt; Hank with the blankets from their learning beds, and Dean with his toy giraffe.

"You look bad, like really bad." Hank said.

"Yes thank you Hank." Rusty said.

"Are you going to be ok?" Dean said.

"For the last time yes I'm going to be fine."

"Hear that Hank he doesn't want to worry us, so brave." Dean said grabbing his father's hand.

"For god sake Dean." Rusty said as he pulled his hand took his glasses off and began rubbing his eyes.

"Does… it hurt?" Dean asked.

"…No Dean, it doesn't 'hurt'…Just a headache that's all."

"Have you had it all day?" Dean asked

"No I've had is since…How old are you two again?"  
Dean's eyes sunk to the ground. He finally got a joke, and what a joke to get Rusty thought feeling almost a bit guilty, almost.

"Lets just talk about something else… quietly." Rusty said.

"I know we could play a game." Hank said.

"I know a great game," Rusty said with sarcastic enthusiasm " its called 'both of you shut up."

"I… don't think that's a real game." Dean pointed out.  
Rusty was quite tired by this point and only had enough strength to glare intensely.

"What about truth or dare you go first." Hank said.

"Oh that sounds fun, Truth." Dean replied after some hesitation.

"Have you and Triana ever kissed?" Hank asked.

"Wha…No way! You can't ask that!" Dean said clearly embarrassed.

"Tough luck Dean-o. You picked truth."

"Well … I … No…I haven't." Dean sighed.

"Good, told you to stay away from that little strumpet." Rusty added.

"Now its your turn, Truth or dare?" Dean asked.

"You're kidding right?" Rusty scowled at Dean " … Of course not, why would you be? Truth then." He replied with aloof disinterest.

"What was mom like?" Dean asked. For just a moment, behind his glasses Rusty eyes widened, his look of surprise faded to one of contemplation.

"Your mother… she was … " Rusty paused as if he truly had to think of the right words before he spoke.

"She was the only thing that ever made me -"Just then Brock opened the door followed by Dr. Orpheus."-Oh thank god." Rusty said quietly.

"Brocks back!" Hank smiled.

"Afternoon, Dr. Venture." Orpheus said.

"What do you want Orpheus? Can't you see I'm busy. If this is about your rent we can talk about it later."

"Ah that is not why I am here, you see, Mr. Samson informed me that pestilence had struck the house of Venture. I felt as though I should do everything in my power to assist, so I made you this." Orpheus said as he theatrically presented a small cup to Rusty.

"What is 'this' exactly?" Rusty asked, swirling the contents of the cup skeptically. The liquid was the thicker then water and practically black.

"It is an herbal cure of great antiquity to balance the humors. Hippocrates once said-" Dr. Orpheus began.

"-Great a history lesson, that's the perfect thing for my splitting headache." Rusty interrupted.

"While it is good to see your wit is no worse for the ware, but I find your criticism unwarranted. Much like the arcane, the old ways hold untold wisdom that one can benefit from if one only takes the time to-"

"-Fine Orpheus you win, if it get you out of my house I'll drink your 'magic placebo' tea." Rusty said eyeing the liquid once more, before taking a drink.

"I assure you Dr. Venture this is no mere 'trick of the mind', but a complex recipe made of only the finest-" Dr. Orpheus said.

"-Dear god it tastes like a wet cat." Rusty interrupted again. Dr. Orpheus, now frowning at being cut off for the third time.

"Well that probably has to do with-" Dr. Orpheus paused. Everyone in the room looked up at him with uncomfortable wide-eyed stares.

"It was a joke, I was attempting to make a joke." Dr. Orpheus assured them.

"Well I would…'love' to stay, but I must make haste! Pumpkin has Tennis Practice at 3 o'clock in the south meridian and we shalln't be late two weeks in a row!" Dr. Orpheus said with fists raised.

"Thanks a bunch Orpheus, I'm sure it will work almost as well as pixie dust you gave us for Christmas." Rusty said.

"Pixie dust !? ….Tell me Brock how does one put up with 'this' each day." Orpheus asked.

"Get used to it, I guess." Brock shrugged.

"I'm right here you realize that?" Rusty said.

The next hour went by event free. A hour filled with Dean reading Giant Boy Detective out loud much to his fathers chagrin. As much as Rusty loathed to admit it Orpheus may have actually helped. His fever was soon replaced by shivering. It had started slowly and for a while he could ward it off by clutching his arms, but eventually the teeth chattering was too prominent to hide.

"Chapter 13, As the moon glimmered in the… Are you cold?" Dean asked.

"Oh of course not, I always look like this, YES I'M COLD DEAN." Rusty yelled.

"There's some coffee left…why don't you two…" Brock said, head motioning to the door, a gesture the boys understood.

"My god, can't tell what makes more tired this parasite infestation or those two for more then an hour." Rusty said once he was sure the twins had left.

"They're just trying to help." Brock said.

"I don't recall asking them for their 'help'."  
Brock and Rusty avoided eye contact until Hank and Dean came back with a mug of coffee made with love. And while the temperature was exactly what Rusty could have asked for, scorching and yet soothing in his present state. The taste however, was unpleasant. It was nearly twice as sweet as he normally liked it.

"Well?" Dean asked as he and Hank waited with baited breath.

"Have to hand it to you, this was probably a perfectly good cup of coffee before you two got a hold of it." Rusty said.

"Ugh nothing we do is good enough! Ugh" Hank said.

"I know what always cheers me up when I'm down!" Dean said with a smile.

"Dean listen…" Rusty glared. "The only conceivable thing that you could possibly do to help, is to leave.. me.. alo-." Rusty stoped mid-sentence as soon as he felt Dean's arms around him in a one sided hugging embrace. Rusty instinctively wanted to push away, but he was exhausted and so cold and Dean sweater vest felt so warm, comforting even. For a second Rusty thought about the last time he was hugged, he could barely remember. It had been forever, and it felt almost enjoyable.

"Aright That's more then enough of that." Rusty said pushing Dean off as the doorbell rang.

"What is it now. Haven't I had enough useless visitors for one day?" Rusty said.

"Hank, go see who that is." Brock said. A few minutes later Hank returned.

"Its that lady with the supper deep voice." Hank said.

"How do I look?" Rusty asked.

"Like you have malaria." Brock said.

Rusty only had enough time to adjust his glasses and sit up straight before  
Dr. Girlfriend walked in. Dressed in her pink suit and pillbox hat, looking pristine as ever carrying a black leather folder

"Oh… well hello." Rusty's attitude suddenly changed for the better.

"Hey look its mommy!" Dean said excitedly.

"For the last time I'm not your mommy." She said.

"Sorry about that… Boys" Brock said pointing to the door.

"Weak." Hank said as the two of them walked out and shut the door.

"Miss me already? You know the last time you were in here you and I were in this room we were-" Rusty said only to get cut off. She shuttered at the thought.

"-Nothing happened, and I'm here on business, Guild business." She said hastily handing Brock a paper from the folder. A paper he proceed crumple up instead of read.

"In accordance with the 1969 addendum to article 47 Unusual Torture Act; I as the primary co-villain-"

"You can drop the legal jargon." Brock said.

"Right well in that case, I just had to stop by and have him sign some paper work for the Guild, we had an arching scheduled for today." Dr. Girlfriend said as she took a seat on the edge of the bed, and opened the folder in her lap.

"That was today?" Rusty asked as if he had actually forgotten.

"That was fast, how did you even know?" Brock asked.

"Remember that trip you took last year? Well while you were got we bugged this place good. Camera in every room… best not think about it." Dr. Girlfriend said.

"That explains a lot." Brock said.

"Shouldn't take long. Initial here and the date." Dr. Girlfriend said pointing out a location on the page.

"Why isn't the Monarch here too, seeing Doc like this seems right up his alley." Brock asked.

"He said something about 'subterfuge'… I'm pretty sure your salt shaker is filled with sugar now." She said turning the page

"And just your Signature." she pointed to the lower corner of the last page.

"You know," Rusty said raising one eyebrow "There are much easier ways for a beautiful women such as yourself to get an autograph from 'Rusty Venture'." as he placed his hand on her thigh.

"Ok …" She said as she immediately stood up. "I'm going ignore that." with a blend surprise, pity and repulsion in her eyes.

"Don't mind him." Brock reassured her. "Fevers so high he's not gonna remember any of this tomorrow."

"Yes but, I will.-" She said. Her interest returned to the document quickly glancing at each page.

"-Looks like I'm done here. And Rusty, get well soon. The Monarch miss-… we miss trying to kill you. I'll show myself out." She composed herself, adjusted her pink pillbox hat and walked out the door.

"Smooth Doc, now she hates us too." Brock said.

"All part of the game, she's come crawling back. Her and I once-" Rusty started.

"-Tell you what, I'll give you this back if you don't tell me this story." Brock said as he tossed the flask he had confiscated back to Rusty. Who didn't hesitate to pour a significant of whisky in to his overly saccharine coffee.

"Deal, hey this isn't half bad Want to try?

"You need it more then I do." Brock said

"Coffee and whisky, I should call it-" Rust said.

"-Bit late there Doc, its already got a name."

"Too bad I had a good one too."

Dean sheepishly returned to the room with a bowl of cold water. Rusty sighed and poured the remainder of the liquor into his coffee cup. Dean walked over to the bed, wrung out washcloth and placed it on Rusty forehead causing him to recoil.

"What are you trying to do, kill me faster?" Rusty hissed.

"But Brock said that-" Dean protested

"-Brock said this, Brock said that. Honestly."

"Should leave it, it'll help"

"Who's the doctor here?" Rusty asked.

"If I find one I'll let you know." Brock said.

30 minutes went by and Brock began to be surprised at the lack of a an instantaneous sarcastic comebacks, Brock looked back at Rusty whose eyes were half closed and his head was slowly bobbing back and forth, more asleep then awake. Looks like the alcohol was finally kicking in.

"Dean." Rusty whispered

"Yes." Dean said replacing the washcloth again.

"…I'm sorry". Rusty said. Brock's eyes widened.

"Probably had enough of that." Brock said gently praying the spiked coffee cup from Rusty's hands. Dean smiled and clasped his father's hand, and this time he didn't pull it away.

"-I love you." Rusty said.

"Jesus, even I haven't seen him like." Brock said, shaking his head.

"We should…" Brock gestured toward the door. Dean nodded letting go of his father's hand.

"Goodnight …dad." Dean said as he left the room.

"Brock wait…"

"I don't get paid enough for this." Brock mumbled to himself, wondering after all that whisky how on earth he was still awake.

"Did I do the right thing Brock?"

"Hell are you talking about?" Brock sighed.

"They died …. So many times…."

"Did what you had to." Brock reassured him. But truly he was more concerned then ever; the two of them had an unwritten rule, never discuss the clones under any circumstance unless the graves had been dug.

"Every time I look at them …I just think about how they…. that's all I can see."

"… Just … get some sleep." Brock said looking away.

"I've seen my children die, Brock …you can't sleep after that…not really." Rusty Said.  
Brock remained silent as he took Rusty's glasses off, he feel a cold tear fall from the frames into his hand. He placed them on the bedside table.

"Poor bastard." Brock said.

Rusty woke up some time later to find himself clutching Dean's toy giraffe only to push it away in disgust. He reached for his glasses but the weren't in the regular spot on the nightstand. Brock was leaning on a nearby wall.  
"What are you doing in here?" Rusty asked coldly.

"Didn't seem right to just leave."

"You were worried about me weren't you?" Rusty smirked smugly as he finally found his glasses. Brock sighed but said nothing.

"Wait- … Are you… smoking in my bedroom?"

"Ya sorry about that, I just spent the last 24 hours straight making sure you didn't die. Think I earned a smoke break."

"…Just put it out when you're done. And what in the hell are you smiling about?"

"Want to hear something funny? Last night you told Dean you loved him."

"That's ridiculous, I said no such thing.-" Rusty protested, however bits and pieces of memories began to come together.

"-Oh god your serious ….Did you tell him I was?-"

"-Delirious, ya, he's not buying it."

"Never going to hear the end of that am I."

"Probably not."

"Well, clearly I don't need any more help, so you can go back to… doing whatever it is you do around here."  
Brock shrugged and was about to walk off.

"Oh and Brock…Thanks for … that."

(A/N First fan fiction ever ya!)


End file.
